Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1887-05-28

The name of him who fills q soldiers
grave is holy TO us now, He who left
home, wife or parents, rushing brave
ly, buoyantly and uuquestioningly to
the call of his country, has borne the
pangs of martyrdom and shall he not,
too, bear the glory of it? Il say unto
you, no man can do more than this
that he lay down his life for a friend"
Down from the great Teacher of the
world came echoing these words which
place the soldier among the great of
the earth: he laid down his life for
home and country-he hath done what
he could.
1t does not seem a quarter of a
century since they whose names con-
front lis on marble tablets were
among us, fired with the earncstness
and valor of patriotism. Though not
remembered with the rancor of old.
those days will never be forgotten.
Babes yet unborn will, for generations,
be told the thrilling story of those
years. The women and children who
stayed at home waiting, with white
lips and palpitating hearts, for news
from the seat of war-thcSe are the
mt upon whose hearts are engraved
memories which are indeliblc, and
which shall flow in the life-blood
of their children'S children. Oh those
days of waiting and wishing! Have
they ever, can they ever, be pictured
graphically enoughp The rushing
about of troops-thc recruiting offices,
with their constant excitement, the
preparations of supplies by willing
hands, the letters full Of cheer from
the front, the waiting for the dreaded
newspaper after the battle, when the
long lists of killed, wounded and miss
ing were dcyourcd with wide-eyed and
eXpectant horror, the dull, cold
anguish, only to be outliyed by years,
which came when Il loved name was
found in these fatal lists. VIII the
children of those days ever forget
these things, or their children after
them? Even at this day, who can
hear the melancholy music of the fife
and drum without recalling the SOL
dior's funeral, the mullled drum, the
dead march, the brave hero coifined in
his uniform; dead, perhaps, with a
bullet in his breast, while leading an
assault, or, sadder still, dead among
strangers, far from home, after long
days of suffering. The pathos of it is
enough to soften hearts of adamant.
Family, family, did the robe of sable,
the vail of Grape, express the unspcak-
able woe which, black and crushing,
fell upon happy hearts in those
troublous times.
Many reminders of the old war days
are about me. Occasionally one may
see upon some old man, who is perhaps
proud of it, an army o~vercoat, with
its long, dangling skirt of blue, its
cap and government brass buttons.
That coat is sacred as the mantle of
Elijah, and he who can view that hon
orcd garment unmoved is c%allous, in
deed. Nearly every home in the land
has its souvenir of the war, rendered
precious by the memory Of its possess
or, Reyerently and lovingly as were
the Lares and Penates of old, are these
relics enshrined in places of honor and
pointed to with tender pride, Some
times it is q sword of the ncwly-fcdged
young officer; sometimes a canteen, a
knapsack or a tattercd flag. Or per-
haps 4 portrait of a "boy in blue"
hangs oycr the Fireplace, and the Wis
itor in the household must hear the
story of his brave young life told in
fearful reverence by those who loved
him, With such reminders as these in
half of the homes of our land, think
you that Memorial Day will ever be-
come an empty name? Think you
these graves, and O, how many there
are! will be left ungarlandcd on this
day? Think you the time can come
when the soldiers grave will not be
hallowed ground? No; as God and
the Right liveth. No. Rather do we
wish that these fraiE, ephemcral bios
SONS, sweet as they are delicate, might
defy the laws of nature and, gloriicd
by their mission of marking a soldiers
grave, might bloom forever; immor-
%tellcs, un shrlvellcd, unfadcd, undying,
sending up q perpetual perfume en-
blcmatic of the unselfsh, undaunted
patriotism of a soldiers heart.
The most pathetic feature of Mem
orial Day, however, is not the hang
ing of wreaths and emblcms upon the
lofty monuments which mark the rest
ing-placcs Of those known and hon
ored in life. 1t is the decoration Of the
nameless grave which shows the real
beauty of the custom. Dead hero!
deprived Of u resting-place near those
of your kindred, defraudcd by fate of
even a name upon your foot-stone,
to-day you are remembered with rev.
crcnc and gratitude. The %fairest,
sweetest flowers rest upon you. God
knows who it is beneath the turf, and
We know you by the glorious name of
Soldier. Though withcred flowers are
ever on your grave, and each season
of bloom brings a fresh coronet to
mark the spot, the grave is, though
namcless, cherished and honored by
the Nation among its most precious
possessions.
The custom of marking the graves
of the departed Is prehistoric. Every
thing which love car devise has, in
different periods, and by different ma
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